H&H
by AlLawlliet4ever
Summary: Molly is lonely, caring, shy and madly in love with a certain Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock on the other side is a master mind sociopath selfish bastard who has been using her feelings for his own convenience. Both of them will start a new journey to stop Moriarty's legacy but will this imply a new development in their relationship? Read to find out and let me know what you think!
1. Prologue

**Author's note:Well my love for the Sherlolly ship has inclined me to write my fisrt story about these two, I'll try to portrayed them with most of their own personological features to not get them out of character, this doesn't mean that their interaction during the course of this story is not going to alter in some interesting way. It will be a slow built of a new bond so I ask some patience. On the other hand this is my first story so don't be gentle but honest. Oh! and I know it's hard to forgive about some gramatical mistakes but English is not my first language but Spanish so I'm really doing an effort to write this story and at the same time developing my skills in English. Now read, enjoy and review! **

**Disclaimer: The character of Sherlock originally belongs to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Sherlock BBC history of the wonderful Steven Moffat and Mark Gattis. My story is only fiction but I wish it was real.**

Prologue

Molly is lonely, caring, shy and madly in love with a certain Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock on the other side is a master mind sociopath selfish bastard who has been using her feelings for his own convenience.

The day she saw him he didn't want to admit that someone has had the potential to see what the average eye couldn't. She saw him, not him but trough him, she understood very well his need for John, she knew how to put in words the way he was feeling, _vulnerable, 'Is that pity in her eyes?' _He wondered the moment she told him that he looked sad, he was astonished with her statement and for a moment he was stuck with no harsh reply at all to make a comeback to her words. When she offered her help to him, he was ignorant at the fact that she was willing to give more than that to him, she was offering her entire being to him, he ignored the fact that she would go to the end of the world just to see him happy. For her was unconditional love, for him her interest in him was just an infatuation completely pathetic, but very convenient when the proper time comes.


	2. Hooper

Chapter 1: Hooper.

When he explained his plan to defeat Jim, all the pieces of the jigsaw managed to fit. She wasn't stupid, she knew she didn't count, not at all, at least not like John or Mrs. Hudson, she was not person of his interest, and she was a merely tool to complete his plan, his emergency exit. And she this very well knew the moment she offered herself to him with the words _"You can have me"_ she had shown him her vulnerability, Hooper loved Holmes too much for her own sake therefore she was hopeless.

People would like to know how someone like her could fall in love with a man like Sherlock; other could consider her a shallow person since he was a perfect constructed human being. She smiles to herself sometimes thinking that maybe God gave him the brains and the looks but instead he took his heart out even before Moriarty entered into stage. But no, she is not going to deny that his beautiful eyes and those sharpened cheekbones could evoke a physiological response from her and colored her face everytime she contemplated him. Also she couldn't hide either the fact of how much she admired his work, his deductions skills and his marvelous working brain on every case she had seen him work, even when all the things he let out of that hypnotic mouth are harsh comments.

But that's not it, that's not the thing, since she was a little girl life had always had a way to put cold people in her way, since her mother who abandoned her when she was a five year old little girl, making her responsible of her own father who summed into alcohol and depression after her insensible wife left them both. High school was another story, with the lack of confidence and self-esteem turned her into the perfect target to the bullies, it was very hard to make friends especially when you were the bookworm of the class. She survived. Studying to be a doctor, left her no time for relationships, and even when people came to her were only for one thing in particular, her help, always helping her classmates with their studies, always making the others homework because excusing them was so more easy that seeing the harsh truth, she was being used. They had no interest in her at all, not even her so called best friend, the girl who used her more than anyone, the typical girl with the looks no brains and the social ability to make people go to her. Looks, Molly wasn't the girl with the big boobs or the perfect ass, she was thin, pale and small, but she was ok with it, that didn't bothered at all, or at least that was what she thought until she met Martin a divorced 38 year old doctor, an attractive, respectable and intelligent; the only man who admired her brains, and stole her heart in University. He turned to be a sincere and good friend to Molly but no more than that cause he was more interested in Molly's good looking girlfriend so she just kept her love for him buried inside her heart until she graduated from University. After that the few boyfriends she got turned to be idiots, bastards who only wanted to get laid and then left her behind. And finally with the dead of his father a devastated Molly decided to turn her entire attention into her work at Bart's, her love to her work turned into the best distraction to keep her sane and alive in her lonely and silly life with only a cat as a companion, until the day she met him.

Sherlock made her feel trapped again, not only because of his intense stare and impudent presence, not only because the way he deducted her in the moment he saw her, revealing a great admiration to him but because of _the smile_. The case was simple he reunited an abducted child with her mother, even when he said that the point wasn't to rescue him but solve the mystery behind the abduction and the child was on his way, she saw the little smile of the lonely detective with no social skills at all, a tiny smile which was formed when he saw the mother crying and bracing her child, the same smile that disappeared as soon as he caught Molly's eye. _He was a good man after all_ she thought and something warm spread inside her chest that day.

With time she built an idea of him in every case he involved her help, _he was funny_ she used to thought the funny way in which his eyes glinted with excitement when a case turned more difficult or the sarcasm blast he expressed everytime Anderson opened his mouth, even the innocence in his lack of manners, _Just like a child_, he wasn't rude just didn't know how to treat people, but what move her to the love ground was seeing that after all his greatness he was another lonely soul, he was alone cause she never saw him with anyone but Lestrade who brought him the cases, somehow she felt the need to comfort him, to show love and how to love, she felt a motherly tender towards him, like he would understand somehow how it felt. Until John came along and tuned him into a little bit more human, he was like his moral conscious; he became his friend, his brother, his someone to hold on to. She saw all this from afar, because she wasn't good on how to approach to him, she was a shyness mess and she was sure he didn't saw her at all. He never notices her little attempts, and when he did it, he just stated facts about her but nothing more. Christmas left her breathless with shame; she understood that nothing good would come out from her efforts. Even after he apologized after his harsh statement, even after the light kiss he put on her cheek to amend the disaster he made. She recognized a change in him, a progress, but still she admitted her defeat, that would be simpler because in the end she just wasn't the woman. Mainly she wasn't the woman he identified from "_not her face"_.

So she gave up on the idea of keep trying, it was pointless, she needed to let it go and move on from him. Well at least she thought about it cause even when she tried Molly realized that it was going to be more difficult than she thought, she never could get rid of her feelings especially not after she saw sad and concern in him that fateful Reichenbach day, she felt it in her heart, and she felt the pain, his pain. Molly couldn't handle it, not that. Somehow she felt the need to do something, everything that could make him better, to let the pain go away.

Molly knew she didn't count, she was very aware of this detail, even when he told her the contrary but Molly was not the same stupid and naïve Miss Hooper from Med School, she was a grown up with an irremediable unrequited love for the man who didn't do girlfriends. That's why she opted for make him believe that she trusted his tempting words when he evoke _"You do count, you always counted and I always trusted you" _and the fatal statement that put Molly in her actual situation, those three lethal words _"I need you"_

She didn't think it twice and put herself at his entire service, she was again a tool, she knew she would be using her, he only needed her help nothing more. This time she was more aware of that fact, but she was hopeless, she pitied herself because now even when she was conscious of what was about to come, she couldn't care less because she need to do something for him, anything.

Because in the end this was the only way in which Sherlock was allowed to live. She gave him a second chance.


	3. Holmes

Chapter 2: Holmes

The moment he realized that a certain Hooper was more than willing to give her entire self to do as his asked a moment of clarity appeared on the dark tunnel of his mind palace. There was a way to defeat Moriarty after all and a possibility to save the few people he cared about. Moriarty was right when his plan only contained three snipers to the three persons very closed to Sherlock's heart, Jim discerned this quite well because after all he knew Sherlock as much as he knew himself, that's why Sherlock felt cornered and trapped the moment he discovered how Jim would burn the heart out of him. He wasn't going to lie, it would be hypocrite from him to say that she did count, she didn't to him, he couldn't understand what were the circumstances that lead a woman like Molly to risk everything for the sake of a man who has never seen her any less than a mere object of interest. But he didn't manage to have the time to think about that, not when his best friend was unaware of the great danger that Moriarty represented and how was that affecting Sherlock.

He couldn't present his vulnerable side, not when the people he cared about could be in real danger, since he was a little child his father taught him and his brother how to take control over their emotions, his cold father educated them with severe methods and show them how to hide deep inside the truly nature of their human side. _Remember this boys, caring is not an advantage it could coast your life,_ those were the words of his father who never showed him any more sign of affection than a smirk of approval or a pat on the head when something good was showed from Sherlock or Mycroft's part. His mother on the other side was the entire opposite of his father, a curious thing Sherlock never got to understand, not even the law of attraction could explain such a union between his parents, he never understood the mystery of what a lovely and tender woman like his mother could have seen in such a severe and unbreakable man like him. Sherlock never get along well with his father since he wanted to leave the Holmes legacy in good and prepared hands but Sherlock was certain that his deductive methods and brilliant mind were a gift and he wasn't willing to waste it into assuming the role his father was expecting from him, so that was how Sherlock gain the disapproval of his father while his mother lived trying to make Sherlock understand his husband's motives, this gave Mycroft the chance to ascend and gain the admiral and respect of his father, he was the good grace of the family while Sherlock was the disappointment.

He couldn't bare her mother's pity or his father pressure on change his mind about being a detective. While Mycroft received all the glory on the Holmes family Sherlock get to collect all the reproaches, that's why he preferred to spend his young days in Boarding school than his own home, he was not so social as Mycroft, his mind took him to another level in school, people used to called him names such as the freak, the weird one, or the brainy maniac, Sherlock turned to be the git who always make feel the others stupid, he was the cruel handsome guy who rejected all the shallow young girls, he received only envy or hatred from teachers who saw him as a potential intellectual menace, all that added the pile of people who found him annoying and made him realized that he had no friends, not a single one and he would never. Sherlock's philosophy of _But who need average and boring people wasting your time when you have the brains of a god? I don't need anyone_, that ideology and drugs helped him to bugger off the deep emotions of solitude which use to tend to surface once in a while in his school years. At the age of twenty seven Sherlock departed his father who died of lung cancer, not a single tear was given that day not even from the prodigal son of his so called brother. _Well father you did a good job after all_

Sherlock couldn't bare his mother's pain so he decided to leave his home and his addiction to drugs, after all he didn't wanted to ruin his incredible mind potential if he became a junkie, so he quit drugs and cigarettes, he needed to be clean if he want to exploit his marvelous mind, well he could say that he had a thing with nicotine way more hard to left behind, but he promised to himself of trying to work it out eventually. He started a new life all by himself in 221B Baker Street where he found an empty and reachable flat for himself which came included with a nice old land lady called Martha Hudson came very handy at that moment of his amateur independent life. Nicotine patches, coffee, books, researches and cases became his duty and only interest after everything, he was immediately recognized by his deduction skills and get to attracts the police department attention after his solve a important case on his own, that was when he met Lestrade and his department of incompetent idiots who reminded him a lot of his classmates in Boarding School, he proclaimed himself as a consulting detective, the best of his generation, the only one indeed, since he invented the job after all.

To Sherlock people had been simple tools for him until then, access to gain things he needed, Lestrade was his contact to cases, his job and only ambition. Mrs. Hudson functioning as his domestic help with the basics to survive in his flat, helping with the food and the cleaning, "Not your housekeeper" was her words everytime he asked her for something, he grown as a spoiled brat after all. But time had been responsible for teaching him that not everyone acted the same way, they managed to worry and cared for the lonely detective and somehow the daily and constant interaction with them awake his social nature and in a very unconsciously weird way Sherlock began to return the same feeling of care at least in the high disguise of a profound respect for both of them, baby steps of becoming human. He started to see Mrs. Hudson as a potential mother, because he couldn't deny the fact that he missed his mother but emotional issues were too much to handle to him, not his area of expertise, besides watching the very same image of his dead father on his living brother Mycroft was enough to bother him and ruin his mood.

When John came along those baby steps on caring started to developing into something more, he wasn't so sure on how someone couldn't found him so insufferable as others, his patient, kindness, joy, and admiration towards Sherlock brought joy to the detective's life. He didn't felt so alone anymore, the bond between the two was more than sincere and friendly; they were more like brothers who loved and care so much for each other. The day John risked his reputation to save Sherlock's life in the study in pink; Sherlock realized that for the first time in years he had someone to rely on, someone he could trust his own life, he felt happy for having a friend like John even when he wasn't be able to show it a lot. The day Sherlock found out that he had a heart after all was the day Moriarty was about to burn him out of him, seeing John so scared wearing all those explosives, and with the possibility of can't help it, the merely idea of losing his best friend brought the fear and within that horrible emotion became the lack of clear judgment, he had been afraid and his arch enemy saw the terror in his eyes. That day Sherlock remembered his father's words, but with John safe he was be able to forget them for a while. Until Irene, the woman who was able to took his breath away, literally, the intellectual attraction was fatal and somehow he accepted the fact that he care for one woman in not a motherly way at all, he didn't knew how to identified the sentiment, admiration perhaps, respect, or something more, but the woman who defeat him once had been able to gain his secretly admiration, that was why he helped her to escape death.

But now sitting here in Molly's flat he didn't cope with the memory of the first time he crossed paths with the mousy pathologist who gave him another chance to live. He really underestimate her, maybe that was what he was bothering right now, just like Christmas he lost the details, he looked but never observed, it's been weeks since that fateful day, the black coffee in his hand in starting to get cold while he tried to compose the pieces of that day. The sentiment of being in debt with someone as simple as Molly makes him nauseous. Jim was right, he never get wrong about the fact that only three people really mattered, but luck was on his side that fateful day when a hidden ace appear with Molly's revelation , he didn't believe in miracles but that same exact moment that was all he needed and resulted to appear in the form of his shy pathologist. That day he didn't think about the shock of Molly's resolution in her confession, he just saw an opportunity, so he took it. But now being in her home while she's out there consoling his best friend in grief and he's sitting in her favorite white couch still recovering from his injuries he can't avoid the memory of that day from his head, the way she observed him, the way she sate the fact that she didn't counted, he can't understand how she could see what he was hiding so well to John. "She fancies you, Sherlock" That were John's words on the Christmas party after his big mistake and wrong deduction. But he didn't give John's statement so much importance after all Irene was playing in the same stage and was stealing all the show and the detective's attention.

In the end Molly Hooper was an unexpected riddle he couldn't get to solve, at least not yet. "Oh how much I need my violin" He says after a long sigh escaped his lips, looking at the ceiling while Tobias cuddles comfortably in his lap.


	4. The debt

Chapter 3: The debt.

A month had passed since the fall and she had become so used to his presence, though he was very quiet she felt different coming back from work and having someone to say hello even when all she could get from him was a simple nod. She doesn't bother to ask him how long is he going to stay with her, she's afraid of the answer so instead decides to avoid the subject. It's awkward seeing him on her couch in front of television with his eyes wide open but with his mind elsewhere miles from her flat, a cup of coffee in one hand and the other scratching her lazy cat's head.

Living with Sherlock under the same roof was something Molly never imagined, not even in her best fantasies. The day she brought him to his flat she expected some mad Sherlock or at least on the brink of despair, since there was nothing that could entertain him from boredom, and oh jeez she knew how neurotic he became when he was bored. But nothing came from him, not a single remark about her messy flat, or a cruel comment on her attempts to make conversation, not even a single complain, and in some way that was really tormenting her. Observing Sherlock sit there pretending to watch crappy telly makes her realize that maybe, just maybe, Moriarty wasn't entirely defeated, cause in the end he took Sherlock's life in a very metaphorically way, his job, his friends, his home were taken away from him. So yes, maybe she wasn't a great genius but right now she didn't need his brains to deduct that Sherlock was suffering even when he was reckless to show it. She knows he's dead inside, and now his empty corpse is sharing a flat with her.

She eats her meal in silence, while she thinks on a list of possibilities to bring him back to reality, but she failed on the subject. The inadequate intake of food is taking his beautiful features into a cadaveric level; he has refused to eat even when she has tried her best attempts to get him to eat something and she is starting to get mad about the fact that he's been unconsciously suicidal. She sighs in resignation and took serves another plate, it's been days since the last time she saw him eat properly and she is not going to deal with a sick Sherlock in near future, so with plate in hand she walks towards him, turning off the television in her way to him, she puts the plate on the coffee table and takes a sit on the other extreme of the couch, he could have been living a month with her but that doesn't mean that his presence has ceased its intimidating effect on her. So she decides to keep her distance when she decides to speak.

"Sherlock…I think you should eat something" She doesn't get his attention at all, instead he takes the control and turns on the television again. She feels all the disrespect in his action, but she tries to sympathize with his situation, besides you can't expect someone to be so cheerful when everything had been taken away, so she took another breath of courage and add. "Please Sherlock it's been days since the last time you ate something"

This time he gives her a brief look from the corner of his eye. "I'm not hungry"

"But if you keep avoiding the food you're going to be sick"

"My body is used to low intakes of food" he says while his eyes are on the television.

"Sherlock, you look like a ghost" She regrets the words as soon as they escaped from her mouth.

"For your information Molly, I. AM. A. GHOST. So please if that's all you wanted to ask I'll be grateful if you just leave me alone"

A part of Molly was thinking -well, time to wave the white flag-, and retire to her own bedroom before she loses all the rest of her dignity in begging the obstinate git to eat something. _Damn him if he wants to starve to death. Why he always had to get away with it, it's not fair, that was her flat, her help, her rules, the least he can do it's a little bit grateful and try to survive this entire fatal outcome, why he has to be so selfish? Does he not see how much hurt is he causing me? Well then, he doesn't leave me any other option. _

"You owe me" She says without even looking at him.

This time she catches his entire attention, he stands still and after a couple of seconds turn off the television, and turns to look at her inquisitively and off guard. "I see" He says waiting for her to return his glance back but all she did was staring at her twitchy hands in her lap. "For a moment I thought your help was disinterested and nonprofit, I guess I was wr…"

"No, you are not wrong. You're never wrong Sherlock" she interrupts him immediately. "I wasn't expecting anything when I offered you my help, I mean when I offered myself to you. But you didn't leave me a choice, if you want to keep hurting yourself without taking the proper care to your system then go on, but I think that the least you can do is survive to all of this situation, not for me, but please I ask you to feel a bit grateful for my help and eat something" That statement mixed with her voice sounded so soft even when the content of those sentences established a very good point. He was in debt with her, and even when she didn't want to throw everything she has done for him in his face all, she only want him alive and healthy, she knows it's almost impossible to wish back the old Sherlock even if that means being invisible to him once again.

Sherlock was astonished to recognize something in Molly, her ability to know how to use her psychology against his, the talent to see his Achilles' heel, maybe she was unconscious of this capability, but in some way the time around him had taught her how to get in contact with the things that bothered Sherlock the most. He hated to be in debt with her, he hadn't thanked her yet for everything she had done and not because he couldn't find the words but because of he knew that a simple thank you in words weren't enough to pay for all that Molly had risked for him to be now sitting on her couch freely breathing knowing that his friends were alive. So yes, he hates the feeling of being trapped in a debt he can't afford to pay and she knew exactly what points to pressure to make him do as she asked, she had used the debt. _Clever! Molly_. So after her smart statement the only thing he can say is "Ok, then. Fine, I'll eat" because he recognized that he can't win against her right now so he starts eating his meal.

She breathes deeply relaxing herself. "Thanks Sherlock"

"Ironic" he manages to say between bites after she thanked him for accessing at her request. She breaths more calm feeling the ambiguity of the recent argument, she results victorious for making him eat something but also she feels defeated for making him think that she had a selfish purpose behind her offer and now she was taking advantage of him. How is so hard for him to see that this was her sacrificing all for him? So she only nods him a "Good night" and retires to her bedroom.

He ends his meal with a satisfied stomach, and resigned to figure out a way to pay Molly someday all what she is doing for him, he feels the need to pay off his debt in a some way, not because of his grateful part of him, but because his Sherlockian pride doesn't allow him to owe nothing to anybody. Or at least that was the story he was trying to create to avoid his new enemy _the Sentiment._


	5. Underestimation

Chapter 4: Underestimation

Trying to describe and name the tangle of emotions and thoughts that went into the head of Sherlock Holmes was one of the most difficult cases for the same genius detective. Everything had happened so fast, the idea of having found a meaning to life and then sees it slip away just like sand through his fingers was pestering his comatose mind. Eight weeks after his fall and Sherlock cannot understand what he is doing with his life right now at this time, looking through the window of Molly's flat witnessing as gradually London forgets the great detective that once clarified its best mysteries.

New reports had begun to replace his irreparable scandal, somehow the egocentric part of him thought how cruel it is that the world didn't stop at his depart. _The fall of a liar, that's what everybody must be thinking right now._ But to be honest he doesn't give a single damn about what the ordinary people out there might be thinking after his fake death, it's the people who counted that worries him the most. To Sherlock London consisted on the three targets that Moriarty ever dared to aim, especially London was mostly Watson, and the idea that his best friend is out there inconsolably devastated stabs guilt and repentance inside his damage self. But the paranoia of Sherlock goes beyond that, for some reason he feels that John would ended believing the web of lies that Moriarty planted before his death. Jim was in the end a great player, a good adversary who was able to create the seed of doubt implanted now on people who matter the most to Sherlock. He was feeling utter terror for having disappointed the only opinion that really mattered to him.

The first few weeks were easy, one of the best defense mechanisms were activated in Sherlock to face the misfortune of his current situation, denial. First he couldn't believe he had managed to survive the fall, and in fact he wouldn't have if Molly Hooper wouldn't have participated in all of this, besides Sherlock refuse to believe that he had succumbed to the idea of being trapped in her place for he doesn't know how long. After having invaded the privacy of her home, the mind of the younger Holmes entered to a passive mode, it surprised him, it was the first time his brain was not so desperate to infer, think, observe, work, something was not right within his head, and he didn't feel the need to change it, He was hopeless, and the lack of motivation was killing him silently. The monotony of the walls were driving him desperate but motionless, he was becoming a vegetable, a comatose patient living with a Doctor. The resignation and pessimism came after the conviction that nothing would return him to the world of the living, injecting him a dose of hopelessness and conformity. Another defense mechanism was his imagination that somehow tricked reality, he missed them, so he diverts his mind with any kind of fantasy that could put him into a cab to 221B Baker Street to play his violin or take John's gun to shoot the wall while Mrs. Hudson complains and serves tea and John is trying to contact Lestrade to get him some cases to stop the madness of his friend. But those scenarios had been only in his head, and for a while it seemed better to live fantasizing that set foot on the harsh reality, nothing inspired him, nothing moved him from the couch by the window, he barely ate, at least he tried some food because he would not wait from Molly to remind him the debt. Sherlock was living there just as the parasite of Molly Hooper.

The sound of the door interrupts his vague thoughts; his eyes watch an exhausted Molly coming home with purchases for the week. "Hello Sherlock" Molly says with a slight smile on her face, her failed gesture is trying to cheer up the gloomy atmosphere that prevails in her apartment; after all, she practically lived with a ghost.

Sherlock simply greets her in return with a simple nod every night when she arrives from the Hospital without even looking at her directly, his gaze still on the window longing for freedom and something more he can't understand what is yet.

She doesn't dare to ask how was his day, there's no point of doing such a thing for two reasons, first because only a cutting remark would come from him, even she realizes that her question is somewhat absurd, and second because she knew that everything was the same for him. He's still a Zombie.

When she dares to speak "Today I spoke with John" immediately capturing Sherlock's attention that walks towards her with curiosity.

"Continue" he answers as he takes a seat on the couch, while Molly continues standing next to him.

"He ... he's been seeing a therapist"

"That's so... John" for a brief moment his eyes soften and a small smile formed on his lips, is very brief but somehow Molly's heart skips a bit the moment she witness this.

Molly wanted to avoid bringing bad news to Sherlock about people he considered important, the truth that John was devastated to the point he was in need to seek psychological help had put her into tears when he broke in front of her at lunch.

"He's trying so hard Sherlock, he wants to heal and trying to overcome all of this"

"I see" that's all he can say, because honestly he doesn't know how to express all the remorse he's feeling for his friend.

"Don't you think is fair that you do the same?" For a moment she thinks of the boldness of her question, but then she thinks _what the hell_! This man was being lost in an abyss of depression in which he wasn't even conscious at all; _he needs to pull things straight_. Sherlock watches her confused and for a moment he's able to see something about her that intrigues him, that look, the same look she had gave him eight weeks ago in the lab when she read him right, she's doing that thing, she is seeing through him once again like that time, so no point in denying it, it's useless.

He snorts sarcastically "And what do you suggest Molly? Could you please being so kind and tell me how do I leave this godforsaken flat? And return to what? The Sherlock Holmes you used to know is a farce, there is no way to change that, what's more even if I get to prove my innocence there are three professional snipers ready for any false movement being dead is not enough for a master mind criminal, Moriarty wouldn't leave loose ends even after his death, so chances are that if I try to clear my name and return to my old life Moriarty's contingency plan is ready to wait for me to pull the trigger. So enlighten me Molly, how do you intend to change this disastrous situation? Huh? " his tone ending more aggravated at the end of his harsh remark.

Somehow Molly knows that she shouldn't be affected by the hurtful and sarcastic tone of his questions, she has come to understand that _this is Sherlock_, but overall this is Sherlock broken, yet she can't avoid the feeling inside her chest as her eyes clouded, it hurts a lot, and maybe he doesn't realize this yet but he needs her stronger than ever to face all of this, so she goes with the best she can say right now.

"To be sincere Sherlock, I don't know ..." She honestly don't know how to help him, so she just stands up and heads for the kitchen but stops halfway to turn back over to him with fierce eyes and head held high inhaling some courage. "Maybe I'm not as clever as you are, maybe I'm not John and I can't heal your soul injuries, maybe I'm not Lestrade to give you cases and put that tremendous mind to work, I know I'm not Mrs. Hudson to make you tea and biscuits. I can't be any of them and believe me I try. I'm just me, I'm Molly the pathetic, plain, simple whatever adjective you want to put it, but I'm the girl who used to get you lab access and bodies to experiment with. I'm that simple. But if I could be anyone in the world Sherlock...Maybe I would be you, because If I were you, I could make things right surely, because right now you are the only person who can change all of this, it's up to you. You are bloody Sherlock Holmes for God's sake! You don't sulk like a baby nor does depression, human emotions aren't your area remember? And even though it means nothing to you, I. BELIEVE. IN. SHERLOCK. HOLMES. I believe in you, always have, always will..." She's all flushed and breathless and for the way he's looking at her right now all shocked by her recent outburst she's sure he is too, he is stunned and out of breath. Her tone softened since he says nothing so she decided to give closure to her speech before leaving for the kitchen "Because if I were you... I would drop this insanity of evading reality and start to put that brain of yours to do its thing instead of wasting time looking out that window and behaving like a brainless zombie" With that said, Molly retreats to the kitchen to prepare supper and recover some strength with a full glass of wine, there were times when she wanted to be John Watson to have the enough strength to face Sherlock and pull his shit together without ending exhausted in the process, but like she said before she is just that simple.

Sherlock does not know what to say, that was really not Molly at all, or maybe it was, maybe he was so blind about her that he didn't expect such a excellent remark as that, coming from her, it was like Christmas all over again, she was brave enough to say the things that were bothering her, it was extremely shocking watching her with her _"__Why'd __you__have to __spoil__?" _face, he recognizes the girl has some nerve when she's pushed to the limits, and well he's kind of an expert to drive people over the edge. But the fact that was making him feel _something_, he can't put into words the strange feeling when she said _I believe in Sherlock Holmes__, _gave him some incomprehensible sort of comfort, so she believes in him, and yeah it's pathetic when you think about _Who believes in a dead man?_ At the merely thought that someone believing in him was so ridiculous as if that someone believes in fairy tales, but the true was she did it, she does it, that was calming like a cold buck of water waking him up and now he feels curious and more messed up than ever. She believes in him, and while his brute heart Sherlock can't understand the reasons for her blind faith in him, knowing that someone certainly still does believes gives him a sensation of relieve, on the other hand the guilt began to stalk him, remorse for making her feel less, for treating her like an object of convenience, this was not right, feeling uncomfortable every time Molly was hurt by the way he tossed his frustrations towards her, intrigued him, this was what John called sympathy. And all it took to awake this feeling of sympathy was a soul shaking speech from her, that make him realize that his behavior towards Molly hasn't been fair enough.

By the time dinner was ready Molly didn't bother to call him or serve a second small plate after exchanging words, if he get hungry he will eventually find something ready to be served, at least right now her blood was running like fire through her veins, her head was about to explode, her hands and legs were shaking for what had happened a few moments ago with Sherlock. _What in the devil's name had got into her to speak her mind the way she did?_ The mix of emotions shame and pride, guilt and the rush of adrenaline were so good then, but now not good enough. _What if he misunderstood the entire statement? What if he thinks she doesn't want him anymore with her? No! That wasn't what she was trying to say? Maybe he felt insulted? Or maybe he just don't give a bloody damn what she said as always?_ Well whatever was the reaction right now the last thing she wants to do is see his face because she doesn't have the power to keep a discussion with him anymore she is so tired. That's why she almost drop the plates she was serving for her when surprisingly appeared sitting on the kitchen table apparently waiting for his meal. "Jesus Christ!" she exclaimed shaken by his sudden appearance, that ability of Sherlock to appear without being notice had a morbid effect on her.

"Wrong Molly, he was resurrected at the third day, I'm on the other side still dead"

Molly looked at him suspiciously weird, _Is he trying to be funny or sarcastic? Both? _For a moment she thought that he was acting like he's old self, but then silence fell again.

"Hungry?" She manages to ask trying to evade any comment concerning the last conversation.

"Yes, very much in deed."

"Well, I'll put another plate then" She served the dishes and sat opposite him, giving him a soft smile before she begins to eat. "I hope you like it; I'm not very good at cooking pasta"

He nodded in affirmation and both began to eat in silence. Everything is very quiet to the point that the clash of the spoons with the dishes mixed with the bugs cricking outside, the tick tock of her kitchen clock and the drops of water from the tap is driving her insane and she can hear her own blood pressure inside her head, still he looks so calmed about it, not sad, not lost, just a quiet Sherlock eating. The heavy tension is broken when he decides to ask Molly the next question.

"If you... were me. What would you do?" He looks at her inquisitively.

"What?" She asks dumbfounded.

"Why do I have to repeat myself with you every time?"

"Sorry is just you take me by surprise, can you reformulate your question? Please?" her voice is shaking; yes definitively Sherlock has such an effect on her.

He rolled his eyes and asks again "What you said before, about if you were me, what would you do?"

"Wow! You actually were listening to me?" She thinks aloud and immediately recognizes her mistake adding a "Sorry! I mean, what I'm trying to say is..."

"Just!" he says taking a deep breath and closing briefly his eyes "Just, answer the question" like a impatient parent waiting some explaining for his daughter.

"Well, I think I already did that, I'd say that I would do the right thing to fix the situation?"

"Be more explicit"

This time she is really confused and is afraid to show him that she doesn't know what to say, the brave Molly is spent and now the mousy Hooper is being interrogated by the judging detective waiting for specific answers.

"The truth Sherlock, I don't know what you want me to say. I'm sorry"

"Stop apologizing Molly for the Queen sake's!" he said this time planting his palms in the table, with his menacing look of his. Like a lion ambushing his prey, this takes Molly aback. So she retrieves in her sit and start to play with the hem of her long shirt, anxiety takes control on her hands and she refuses to see Sherlock in the eye, watching everywhere but him.

He notices this, she's scared, he is scaring her, so he takes a deep breath and relax a bit, he demanding look from before softening into a more tolerant one.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you" This time he caught her entire attention, so she looks at him stunned for his apology the second one he had given her in her entire life. Now with her full attention he opts to continue.

"Now, If YOU were ME. How would you try to fix things?"

"Oh that! Ok... Well," she said trying to sound more calm so she takes a sip of wine and continues "You said that Jim, I mean Moriarty would have a contingency plan, right? So since he was a master mind criminal he has to inherit his criminal web to someone."

"Interesting I thought the same; the snipers behind his orders have to be commanded by someone else. You Molly Hooper have a point!"

"Really?" She smiles proud of herself, but immediately get serious, since the whole situation was a serious one.

"What else would you do?"

"I don't know. Find him, I guess?" she feels like high school all over again with the worst teacher on the worst subject being asked so many questions and having so few answers.

"What makes you believe it's a _him_?

"Well, you say he was gay wasn't him?"

This makes Sherlock get a chuckle and Molly giggles with him.

"And you Sir said I haven't any sense of humor" she giggles a little more cursing the wine and the pressure of this beautiful man, but suddenly he stops laughing and return to his cold and curious face, making her stop in the process too.

"Well I believe it's a him, since Moriarty was an excellent criminal the successor must be as good as him, someone who had been able to earn the enough trust covering his Master's back like his own life depends on it..."

"But if this successor couldn't be there stopping Moriarty's dead then..."

"The perfect game. Moriarty was playing fair; he was so addictive to the game that he sacrificed his own life to win the table"

"So if he's successor wasn't there to help James then where was him?"

Sherlock saw the curiosity in Molly's eyes, well, well, look who makes the right questions now. "Pointing John of course in case I wouldn't jump like it was planned from the start"

"So he was one of the snipers?"

"The principal head of them"

"He choose John because he was your right hand, that's how Jim played, he was so structured in his own game" She realized all this with a confusion and exasperation while all Sherlock could do was proudly nods in approval and some kind of admiration to her. Sherlock begins to understand how much he had underestimated Molly all this time. "I have a question?" She raises his hand like she was in a school class all over again and then shakes her head correcting herself.

"Do ask" he says trying to not smile at how childish she looked at that moment, she looked excited formulating this entire hypothesis that he had forgotten the real topic that brought him here, and he was more than curious to see how far she would go with all of this conversation. And to merely think that the initial plan to fix things with her was as John would say in this position _"Being considerate is the right thing_, _Sherlock_". So his intentions were 1) apologizing to her, 2) thanking her for her faith and everything else and 3) leaving her flat silently when she were sleeping with no goodbyes, and then he would figure out how to find himself a new place away from London to stay like a solitary prisoner of his own guilt. But hell no, not now! That idea was changed immediately after this great development, she was so right when she told him that pitying himself wasn't going to get him anywhere besides that wasn't his area, she made a good point about that and now she had helped him to clear a lot of his mind and more than that, he has something to put his mind to work his magic.

So resuming to her pendent question "Why can't the successors be a woman again?" this time more serious and enquiring than ever.

He rolled his eyes at her question "And for a moment I thought you were going to ask something more valid and smart than that. Really, Molly!?"

"Really, Sherlock." she says soft but determined.

"All my life working against crime and along with the police all the snipers I ever met are men, besides if you were taking more attention to me you wouldn't have missed the part when I said that he was the principal sniper, meaning the successor is an excellent shooter."

"I heard that yeah. Still, that's not answering my question?"

"Oh please Molly, women are atrocious with guns"

"Lie!"

"True!"

"Untrue!"

"Fact"

"Fallacy!"

"You are such a macho man"

"I'm a fact man, statistical confirm it, there's no way a woman can handle a gun better than a man, they are far better making coffee and cooking"

"That's not true! My coffee is atrocious and you hate my cooking"

"There are a few exceptions woman!"

"Why can't the successor being one of those exceptions then?"

"Because..." he sighs in resignation, there's no point arguing with a flustered woman defending her feminine rights, and then he starts to laugh, she sees him with so angry at him for his wrong idea of a woman, she is a not a feminist but a humanist all the way and both man and woman are essential for everything. So for a brief moment she thinks he's laughing at her but then he starts to hate more the fact that his laugh makes her heart warm and she can't believe he's laughing for real, no more gloom Sherlock, he's back to his old self, although this is the first time she saw him laugh this hard, she when she looks more into the situation she snaps and realizes that somehow the serious and interesting conversation from a moment ago had turned into a childish battle of sex, _it's like laughing with a friend_. Maybe this was the Sherlock that only John really gets to know. The pathetic of the situation gets to her and she starts to laugh with him, hysterically. And when both of them ended laughing she whips her tears from so much joy saying "You should see me with a gun"

"Let's say that the scalpel it's the only gun I ever want to see you handle"

"At least I'm good at cutting" she said with a big smile on her face.

Sherlock look at her astonished, he was laughing out loud with nothing less than his mousy pathologist, its weird letting all this happen. He felt far better than before; he really needed a distraction like this, a good laugh with a friend, an interesting conversation, an exasperating debate. For a moment he forgot the recent events after his fall, and felt _alive_. _Wait would this mean he was starting to considerate Molly as a real friend?_ _Interesting!_

"Well let's be at peace and say is a man" Somehow this interesting evolution of their interaction has given Molly a little more of confidence, she doesn't feel like an idiot anymore, she's not so afraid to speak her mind not after tonight.

He nods at her and take a sip of his tea to clear his throat.

"So how do you get to him?"

"Well we have to scale the web, take the peons to go for the king. I need to catch the other two snipers who must be as good and dangerous as Moriarty's successor. The problem is how am I going to access to the information of that web?"

"You would have to need a contact out there? Someone who can connect you with his web? What about your brother Sherlock? He's powerful, and he is involved with the government, and well you and I know very well that the government is the cradle of the corruption which is in fact connected to criminals."

At the mention of her older brother Sherlock snorted "If it wasn't for Mycroft I wouldn't be in this position. I can't trust him. Besides that is the problem, revealing me to the living would mean that my whole plan on faking my death would lose all its purpose, so the idea is..."

"Useless, I know. How could I even think that a dead man could be carefully related with the living world, not sense at all, got it..." she looked disappointed with her sudden idea.

"The world of the living" He said frowning. "How can a dead man be connected with the world of the living? Brilliant! Molly! That's it!" Sherlock says after he stands up from his seat and start pacing the room from wall to wall of her small kitchen.

"What!?" she asks interested.

"Through another dead person living among them, that's it! But why it didn't occur to me this before?" She honestly doesn't understand what he is saying now, another dead person? Well whatever the crazy idea has lightened his brain she is sure he would figures something useful.

"Maybe because you've turned off your brain" she whispers something with a cynical laugh in her tone.

"Molly what did I said before about the jokes? But since you helped a little to come to this I'll forgive your lack of humor and terrible pasta" He says withdrawing from the table with joyful steps towards the couch and turning on Molly's laptop on his lap, whispering to himself the million ideas that were raining into his mind palace.

Molly is static, she doesn't know whether to be flattered or offended by the comment of Sherlock, so she only goes for a soft "Thank you?" before he retires to her couch, so she decides to let him work alone now cause in some way seeing him so excited with a case to work on, it's like seeing a child waiting for Santa Claus, it's like the old days in the lab when she used to observe him doing his job, the memory makes her smile warmly to herself, happiness and relief flow through her cheeks knowing that whatever she has said or done had managed to get to Sherlock of the shadowy trance he was moments ago, somehow she had manage to give him some clarity.

After all that night Molly could achieve sleep like a baby, even when Sherlock was typing like a mad man and the echo of the pounding of his fingers against the keys were driving her crazy, she realized something that give her peace at her sleep, _Sherlock Holmes was back, finally!_


	6. Gone

**Author's note: Dear followers, sorry for the sudden delay I've been going through a lot of stress and pressure for my duties as University student, I'll leave with you the next chapter of H&H, hope you enjoy it and I'll be waiting for your reviews.**

* * *

Chapter 5: Gone

It's been two months after that night; she had felt so content with the change of attitude of Sherlock the night after their little interaction, it was nice thinking that every piece was returning to the right place, that he was going to fight back and solve this problem, and of course she was going to help him in everything he will need it, she was so excited and relieved to have him back in the game that she never expected to wake up the next day and found the empty couch and the ghost of his scent lingering same couch. All her optimism was swayed away like a splash of cold water all over her body, he was gone, Toby was on her couch wrapped in the with the covers she had given to Sherlock, there was no note, not goodbye. Her chest tightened as the pain flowed through all her body, she was froze right on the spot as the first thought who brought her back to reality was "Bloody bastard" as the tears streamed down her face taking Tobias into her arms while sobbing inconsolably.

The first month was the hardest one, with no clues or trace about him, she had been really mad at him for left her behind, the night after their talk she had come to the resolution that maybe she could be very helpful to him, somehow she could feel useful and important for someone, that could distract her from the fact that she was not alone, but who was she kidding? At the end she was just an instrument to scape his deathly fate and that's how she was supposed to remains, so after anger there was sadness for the loneliness awaiting at home for her boring daily routine, she missed him, she would dare to say that she even missed his silent presence at home, at least she would be returning to someone that wasn't her cat, she really missed him.

The second month she had started to accept the fact that maybe he already disposed of her services and her help but the sad resignation started to develop into constant worries about him, she didn't know if he was safe out there, she couldn't sleep well that week just thinking of him and what he could be doing or even if he was still alive. What if Moriarty men found him first? What if someone discovered he was alive? Not only for her sake but for the people he had risked his life in order to save them, they could be on the track again just because of his stupidity. She laugh sarcastically at the thought of him being a fool for doing something so risky and dangerous, but the truth was she was terrified when all kind of negative thought passed through her head, she was terrified that maybe he could.

She was walking to her flat after another long day at the morgue, walking home like a robot on autopilot cause her mind was miles away on the whereabouts of certain detective, she knew what would be expecting her at home and that depressed her even more, it doesn't matter how tired she was cause she knew that when she make it to her bed sleep will be eluding her again, so it has no meaning into rush her step.

When she opened the door and threw her things on the floor along her coat, she didn't even bother to get the lights on, she knew very well her small flat to need light to guide her right to the couch where she would threw herself into the cushions and sigh with all her deep thoughts just like every other night. But just when she threw herself into her couch she jumped immediately startled when she felt a body of another person on her couch, he surprise made her scream and retreat her to the switch to get the lights on.

"And just when I was getting some sleep properly done" That voice was too familiar to give her calm back, and a mix of emotions at the same time.

"Sher- Sherlock?" she asked confused if this could be a dream or something, insomnia could make a lot to your head even when you're awake.

"Just the perfect stuttering Molly" he said sarcastically rolling his eyes and getting into a stand position while he stretches his neck.

She couldn't believe it, how dare he? He disappeared for two months after he supossed tobe dead and left her with no sign or at least a note and let her think all kind of terrible things just to found him stretching like a cat on after enjoyed a good sleep, a sleep that she couldn't catch for two months worrying about the same git in front of her, and overall he's mocking about her stuttering. He really had a nerve.

She's furious and desperate to hold him at the same time, she desperately needs to know that he's not an hallucination because God knows she's been driving crazy these lately days, so she just walks so fast to him that in an instant she is just one step from him, her mind is raced with a thousand thoughts and emotions that right there she just did the first thing to feel him.

She slapped him, as fast and hard as she can while tears run down her face. And just when her hand smacked his unshaved cheek and felt the burning and the pain of her own hand, she retrieved it immediately taking a step back, surprised of her own behavior and holding her breath with both of her hands shutting her sobs of content, he's real and he had come back to her.

"I must say that violence was not the kind of welcome I was expecting from you" he said while massaging his cheek.

She looked at him with such content and resentment at the same time that she just didn't know what else to do, her knees were weak and her heart was about to explode. So she just takes a sit before she faints. A soft whisper "You're here" escaped from her small lips as she tried to recollect everything that just happened.

"Obviously, and you are in my spot. Move!" he shoved her away to regain his previous position, stretching his legs and pushing her away from the couch.

She shake her head with a small smile in her lips, cleaning her tears with the back of her hand while and standing up to give him space, he looked so wasted. He accommodated himself and closes his eyes while she stared at him in awe, it was so unfair what his beautiful looks were doing to her, that suddenly the anxiety for demanding an explanation from him disappear, of course she was curious of his whereabouts during the last two months but seeing him there laying peacefully gave her such a relieve and she let a long breath out and the tiredness of two months that felt like hell immediately washed all of her being. So she turned the lights off and sat on her armchair next to the couch where he was lying, she wanted him close to her because she was afraid of losing him again, slowly closing her eyes.

"Are you not going to ask where I have been all these time"

"No. You're tired; I'm tired, let's rest for now ok, we can talk about that tomorrow"

"Good"

"Just be sure to be here when I wake up please?"

"I'm not going anywhere Molly. At least for now, so you can go and get some rest in your bed"

"I'm fine here, now let's sleep ok"

He sighed "Fine. Good night then"

"Good night" she said and then fall into a deep slumber, he did the same.


	7. Nightmare

Chapter 6: Nightmare

_An abandoned train station in the middle of the mountains, the cold wind blows with such a force leaving goosebumps all along her arms so she braces herself when she notices that she's in her pajamas with no sign of any other human around there, she's__** alone**__, so she felt the irony reach her lips in the form of a smile. A creepy feeling overwhelmed her as she stands there barefoot, the station looks such like a Silent Hill scenery and she felt her heart race with as the adrenaline rush through her veins. She hates empty spaces but before she starts to freak out she's distracted with the sound of the distant train that was slowly approaching to the empty station, her teeth are chattering from the cold and she's making friction with both of her hands that started to feel numb. The train is finally in front of her as the doors swayed open with a sudden tall figure inside of it, she recognize this figure, those sharp cheekbones, perfect cupid's bow and cold blue stare it's more than enough to recognize him. He says nothing only awaits for her to get inside of the train, she wants to walk inside but she can't move from there, she's freeze and her feet planted right in the spot, she's desperate now, and want to scream for help, his help, but her voice is lost along the soundly whistle of the wind, the doors closed and the train starts to move slowly, the fear of being left behind is replaced but agony when she finally recover her strength and the control of her movements, immediately she follows the train and start to run screaming his name "Sherlock! Wait!" But it's too late the train is gone and she's all alone again in that God's forsaken train station. _

She suddenly woke up from her bed after that terrible nightmare, sweat all over her face and her pounding heart descending its pace to normal beatings. It was just a bad dream. She's in her bed not in a creepy train station; everything's fine so there's nothing to be scared of. Wait why was she in her bed? The last thing she recalls was getting sleep in her armchair next to a very tired Sherlock Holmes. "Sherlock!"

She immediately jumped from her bed rushing into the living room afraid of found him gone again. A long deep breath is exhaled from her lungs as she found him there sat on her couch with the newspaper open wide covering his face. Her sudden appearance claimed his attention, folding the paper; he took a curious look at her adding a "Good Morning Molly. God, you look terrible"

She blushed when she took her image in the wall mirror, she looked like one of her dead bodies at the morgue "Good morning to you too Sherlock" she sighed at his sherlockian remark, adding a relieved smile. "It's good having you back"

"Is it?"

"Of course. Coffee?"

"Black…"

"Two sugars, I know"

She made her way to the kitchen and started to prepared coffee, she prepared some French toast and scrambled eggs too, he looked thinner than the last time she saw him, so she supposed that he had been avoiding food again. Well he wont starve to death while she's next to him.

When everything is served at the table, both of them decides to take breakfast in silent, he could feel her anxiety and curiosity in every move, her hands were lightly shaking and her eyes were everywhere but looking at him, he know she wants to ask so badly where had he been but she's afraid of getting the cold or harsh response from him. He rolled his eyes in exasperation, she dragged tension to the table and now he want to be done with it.

"Oh for God's sakes Molly! Do ask now!"

Her eyes opened surprised by the pressure on his statement, so she nods immediately, recollecting her bravery.

"So… Where and why?"

"I thought you could have responded that to yourself after the discovery of that night"

That did it, so he allowed her to ask and now he didn't give her an straight answer.

"Are you insane, you went out there?"

"Obviously" he answered seriously.

"How did occurred to you doing that, what if someone saw you?"

"I took the proper precautions, nobody recognized me"

A sigh of relieve escaped from her lips after his statement.

"So…" she said softly.

"Where have I been?"

"Yeah"

"Remember that night when I concluded that the only way to get into Moriarty's web was through another dead person?"

She nodded.

"Well, I went into the search of this person"

"Wait? There's another person out there faking his dead?"

"Faking her dead indeed" he said sipping his coffee.

"Her?" She asked feeling something very strange at his remark.

"Yes Molly, please don't make me repeat myself, the other dead person is a she. And she owed me a big favor"

"Who is she?" she asked curious avoiding his eyes while she played with her food, the mention of another female related to him left her without appetite all of a sudden.

"That's not important; right now the only thing that matters is the fact that she is so close to the Moriarty's web crime. She was hard to find since she moved away from the last place I get her after I helped her to fake her death, The first month consisted in tracking her and the second into persuade her in order to get part of my favor returned, she's not an easy woman when collaboration is required but I succeed in the end she has confirmed to me exactly what I needed to know. Moriarty has a legacy; his empire of crime has a new leader an ex-coronel of the British army called Sebastian Moran. Furthermore the woman has connections inside Moran's empire but she can't do more than get pieces of information for me, puzzles which I need to put in order to decipher the whereabouts of the snipers and Moran, to finally catch them and putting a stop to this madness"  
Molly heard all of this but only 'the woman' part and the 'persuasion' thought lingered in her head pestering like a plague, she felt jealous of that unknown woman who helped Sherlock this last month and who is still willing to help him.

"So how is she?"

"Seriously Molly from all the information I just gave to you the only thing that caught your attention is how is the woman?" he said frustrated.

_Well I'm a woman you idiot! I need to know how good my competition is._ She thought.

"Sorry, what I'm trying to say is do you trust this _woman_?" she accentuated the word woman with a little of discomfort in her tone of voice, Sherlock noticed this tone but decided to let it go, he thought that sometimes women were often very complicated and confusing to deal with them.

"Of course I do not entirely trust her, but we have a deal I'm willing to help her with some needs of her as she provides me with the information she can gets, besides I don't have any other option"

Her eyes wide when the words "needs of her" touched his lips.

"What kind of needs does she want you to help with?" this time she was more curious and exasperated.

"She needs me to help her with some cases; she's been running from trouble and needs help with some very bad guys without being discovered her real identity"

"Are you insane!?" she yelled regretting it immediately at the surprise in his face. "It's sounds that you are going to risk yourself in order to help her with her _needs_? Again that tone.

"Well Molly it's the only option I got. I have nobody else in this"

"You have me!" she said offended that he couldn't even considered her, of course she don't count but right now she was there with him, he has no more options or at least that was what she used to know.

"I mean…What I'm trying to say is…" Sherlock felt the de-javu feeling of her statement, and for a moment he understood what what's going on, she felt abandoned, just like that time at the lab, she felt like she didn't counted to him. "I can help you to defeat Moran"

He wanted to smile when she sounded all brave willing to help him with his problem, it was watching a small child acting like an adult to prove a point, and it was delightful to watch her reckless reactions, but the thing that she was offering her entire self in order to make him better, to risk her life for his sake helped him to contained his smile because he didn't want her to think that he was mocking her "This is dangerous Molly. I don't want to risk your safety"

"I know" she answered more calm.

"No you don't"

"Sherlock, I can be useful too you just tell me what you need and I'll do it"

"I need you to stay out of this. And as soon as I leave this place I need you to forget about me and continue to your life like nothing had ever happened"

"What do you mean? Are you leaving again?" her voice failed as her chest contracted with his revelation.

"I need to"

"Take me with you…" she thought out loud as she started to felt the tears forming in the border of her eyes. She didn't want to cry but the thought of him leaving again, leaving her alone and worried about him it was a shocking, just like her last nightmare. She didn't want him to pity her either so she immediately dried her eyes and corrected herself "Sorry, I mean when you are leaving again?"

"In two days. I'm waiting for the woman to work on a new ID and papers to leave the country"

"The country!?" she asked surprised and sad.

"Yes Molly, it'll be much easier move out where I can't be recognize easily besides Moran presence was last seen in Florence according to the woman he had been working along with the Italian mafia, so I'll be starting there to follow his trace"

She only nodded. Silence fell between them she was looking at her hands and he was uncomfortable somehow her silence and her features were irritating him; he noticed that she looked sad but she was trying to hold it, so he spoke the first thing that comes to his mind.  
"I saw John" this caught her attention and she looks at him worried.

"What?"

"At the graveyard before I went in the search for the woman. I went to my grave. It's ok he didn't saw me."

"Why?"

"I need it to see how he was dealing with my dead, and it surprises me that he still believes in me Molly" he said with a little smile on his lips.  
She smiles along with him, her eyes softened and her heart warms at his sight.

"His faith in you is not going to disappear easily even when he thinks you are inside a coffin six feet under dirt"  
He nodded understanding the meaning of friendship and loyalty just remembering the sight of John next to his grave.

"Ok then. I need to go out" she said standing up walking to her room to get ready for work.

"Where are you going?"

"I need to buy things. Is there something you need from the store?"

He shook his head and returned to the couch to remain his reading from the paper. With that she retired to her bedroom to get showered and dressed. She didn't originally to leave her flat that Saturday, Sherlock was back and she had thought to spend the day with him, she had missed him so much that the mere idea of being away from him was out of the question, but now she needed to get the pain out of her chest and take fresh air to clear her mind, and she didn't want him to see her cry so as soon as she was out of her building she started to walk with a fast pace until she reached a bench of a park and let herself a good cry.


	8. Red

**Author's note: Thank you so much for the new followers of this story. I'm really glad for the time your investing to read this, please I would be eternally thankful if you guys leave your reviews about my story, your opinion is really important so don't be shy and start commenting. If someone of you guys have a tumblr account I would really apreciate if you recommend to the Sherlock and Sherlolly fandom to give it a try to read my story. Happy Halloween you all. **

Chapter 7: Red

Sherlock Holmes lay down on Molly Hooper's couch, his stare lost in the roof while a lot of thoughts related to recent events disturbed his mind, his arms resting under his head while Molly's cat was very well accommodated over his stomach. A long sigh left Sherlock's lips as he recalled his recent conversation with Molly, closing his eyes he decided to scratch the lazy cat which purred at the contact of Sherlock's fingers.

When emotions and feelings are involved it's so Sherlock to avoid them instead of solve them, he doesn't want to deal with them because in some way he is so scared to have a heart and show them to the world, vulnerability was his great weakness and Moriarty has proved how to play with that weakness of him, the mad criminal has already burned some pieces of his heart metaphorically, because even when their friends remained alive he couldn't share with them the life he missed so bad.

If there was one thing that Sherlock began to understand was that his job was always going to find dangerous people along the way, his obsession for solving crimes somehow represented an obstacle for the same criminals, bad people who eventually would want to remove the obstacle out of their path. He had decided not to make the same mistake again, at least until the most dangerous criminals were stopped.

Molly was starting to become an issue that he was avoiding to resolve, he understood how much he represented for her, maybe he didn't have clear yet the reasons behind her devotion for him, but he had decided to put aside that dilemma with the purpose of stay focused on the things that were important for him, truth was that he didn't wanted to accept the factor that Molly Hooper had started to occupy an important part of his life, he could even called her a friend, but his stubbornness of recognize and accept this was blocking all concerning about her feelings in all the madness he was dealing without taking his pride out of the table.

Yes, of course he had notice her previous reaction when he told her of his next departure, he had pretended not hear when she requested with a whisper to take her with him, something deep inside of him cracked at that moment, she was exposed and hurt and he had felt the need to do something about it, anything to stop her pain but he wasn't no expert at the field of counseling or sympathize with people emotions when it was required so he remained firmed and decided to ignore her petition.

He thought that she wasn't thinking straight when she asked such a thing, he couldn't bare the idea of her throwing away all her life out of the window and what's more risking her job to follow him around the world on the search of the most dangerous people, she was crazy for even think about it.

The thing was that he couldn't deny that the idea of taking her with him was tempting for most inconceivable it seemed, he didn't want to go all by himself on this journey, the essentiality of having someone he trust by his side was prevailing over the idea of stay her out of the radar of danger. But that was selfish and he had to do the right thing at least that was what John would have said. He rolled his eyes and smile softly at the thought of how much he had learned from his dear Doctor Watson, his best friend was his mentor in the human world and Sherlock proved to be a not so bad student.

* * *

Molly had empties her tears reserve; she didn't cared about the cold bench she was sited or the random people staring at her while she took all her private emotions out, she felt better after that, at least she had come to the conclusion that she needed to renounce at the need that was Sherlock Holmes, she didn't want to look like a crazy woman with an obsession for Christ's sake she was an adult woman with priorities in her life and gaining the love of the man who owned her heart was an impossible choice of life, yes she would be there for any demand from him, she couldn't help her love for him but she needed to stay real for the first time of her life, she need to sign her resignation to hope and let the feeling go away with time, because the only choice was clinging to time passing by without him and getting over with it, he would leave eventually so she had to act like the mature woman she was and deal with it.

When she came to that resolution she laughed to herself at this thought because she knew that it was an impossible mission, but at least she had to give it a try.

Molly was so lost in her train of thought that she didn't notice when a woman sit by her side, it was only when this woman decided to speak that Molly woke up abruptly from her bubble and came back to reality when she noticed that the same woman was directing her talk to her but she didn't catch the entire message from the unknown woman.

"Sorry what?" Molly seemed confused when she took a look from the woman sit next to her, a very beautiful woman indeed, she was redhead with pale skin, very angelical features, and she was dressed in an elegant black women suit with matching black heels, the read head was sited in a very elegant posture with her legs crossed and her bag on her lap and right then was looking at Molly very kindly.

The woman smile a bit at Molly's surprise "No dear I'm sorry for interrupting your thinking, but I was asking if you want to have a cigarette?" she said raising her thin cigarette.

"Oh! No! Sorry, I don't smoke, thank you"

"Well that's a shame" she said lighten her cigarette and taking a long drag "The tension needs to be relieved somehow you know" she added letting the smoke leave her lungs and invaded the space of Molly.

How rude thought Molly as she sway away the smoke with her hand "Well, maybe there's healthier ways to relieved the tension"

"Such as?"

"I don't know, working out, going for a walk, maybe reading a…"

"Or maybe crying for a dead man?" the redhead interrupted Molly with a smirk on her face without looking at her, leaving Hooper speechless and shocked, maybe she misunderstood the question.

"Sorry, what did you say?" Molly directed her question to the woman who was watching the ducks at the pond getting feed by some kids.

"So he was right about you. You did apologize a lot isn't it Molls?" this time the redhead looked into Molly's eyes recognizing the fear after what she said and then returning her gaze to the pond.

_Molls_, that damn nickname, only one person used to call her by that, and the same person was now past gone, Molly was alerted by panic which was telling her that danger could wear black and red head, she felt the need to run but she was so frighten that her body didn't react in the way she had planned, her entire body froze as she felt her legs and hand numb, it required all her strength and willpower to get up and run as fast as she could when a cold hand took one of her trembling ones.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you" she said signaling at Molly's chest with her eyes.

Molly followed her gaze at her own chest as a red dot was moving between her breast "Oh God!" she whispered as she realized how dangerous the situation was. Immediately she started to look at her surrounding for the direct menace holding the gun which now was pointing right at her heart, but she failed miserably when not only found the sniper but that the park was now empty with not even the kids at the pond. Where everyone go?

The redhead took away her hand from Molly's as she took another drag from her cigarette and smiled.

"Still refusing a cigarette?" The redhead asked with total confidence and calm as she knew she had everything under control, and of course Molly didn't have any other option that accept this point.

"Am I going to die?" was the first thought that crossed for her mind and well what else she can ask when you have someone pointing at you.

"Well dear, that only depends on you" she said hitting her cigarette with her index finger to dispose the residual, Molly's watched the ash falling from the cigarette to the ground as she nodded communicating her collaboration with the redhead. In Molly's head her plan of escaping from her present situation was too bad ass action Hollywood film for her coward self, she wasn't strong or clever to get out of that one without being pathetically hurt or dead in the process.

"What are you doing this? What do you want from me?" the words came with a low tone. Fear and exasperation was stealing her voice.

The redhead threw the rest of her cigarette to the ground as she took another one from her purse. Molly watched her with expectation from an answer, but the redhead was taking her time while she lightened her second cigarette and took a long drag from it.

"You see darling my motives here are strictly professional so it's nothing personal. I'm a delivery girl and you are going to help me to easy my job."

"I don't think I understand"

"Oh please of course you do, look this suit right here is a really expensive one and I wouldn't be pleased to have it all blood splattered so, let's go straight to business will you"

Honestly Molly didn't have quite well what this was all about but another nod came from Molly in order to keep her alive this caused an immediate smile on the redhead.

"First my boss knows very well that the dead man you are trying to protect is still alive." Molly's eyes widened at the redhead's declaration. "He's a cheater you know, and a very bad player I must add. Second his whereabouts remains unknown…" said the strange woman looking a briefly expression of relieved on Molly's face when the redhead confessed the ignorance about where Sherlock was, but that little peace was vanished as soon as the redhead continued her speech "…for the moment of course. My boss is really busy with better plans than have to deal with a cheater like Holmes, surely he's part of the homework that James left to my boss but right now he's not a priority. So just let him know with these same exact words that he is a cold case and still owes James a fall, so the game is going to be paused till my boss says otherwise. For the moment Miss Hooper tell him to BACK. OFF. and that Miss Hooper is not a request but an order"

Molly was speechless, the problem with Moriarty's successor was more serious than she thought, this was not any criminal, this was intelligence, hunger for power, in that very moment she thought _"In What kind of hell did I get myself into?"_ She looked the situation from a different perspective now, maybe the sight of the love of her life as a helpless man, blocked out all the risk, the real risk, that helping him entailed, she felt more fear than ever. So they were very much aware of Sherlock being alive and she helped him to achieve his plan, what if John, Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade were still at risk? Is Jim Moriarty still alive? Why they remained alive even when they know that Sherlock cheated at Moriarty's game? Too many questions danced around her head, too many worries to deal with.

Somehow she felt a little bold when she asked "Is Moriarty still alive?"

"He lives through my boss and all of the people who continue his network. He lives darling, through all of us even through you, the terror that you are feeling right now is James himself doing wonderful things to your mind, so yeah he lives even when his body is just another companion to death. See that's the difference between James and your dear detective, when he plays he plays fair even for a criminal. But of course there's always a contingency plan and believe me Holmes is not going to like it"

Molly's heart raced with such ferocity that for a moment she imagined her escaping from that moment alive she would eventually collapsed from a heart attack. So Jim was dead but his purposes were still alive, at least that was what she could confirm with the redhead statement.

"What about his friends?"

"They will remain untouched until the time to replay the game comes. Of course any sign of anticipated scandal from your part will cost theirs and your live sooner. Any other question you have?"

"Why should I trust you?" Molly asked desperately to know if she should believe the words this woman was saying to her.

"We are a respectful and organized crime network dear, we are not some vulgar criminals we have something called seriousness besides I'm not expecting your trust, that's up to you, I'm just doing my job, the message has already been delivered. Please as soon as you got contact with Holmes let him knows what I already told you." With that established the redhead stood up and started to walk a few steps away from Molly, the red spot still remaining on her chest.

"I apologize for this, nothing personal in fact you really look like a nice person but these are occupational hazards to show the same seriousness of the network" The redhead said to Molly when a sudden pain in her arm spread like venom all through her body, she didn't even heard the shoot when she felt the sharp bullet rub her arm just a couple of inches above her right shoulder. A silence scream made her grab the injured spot with her good arm. The bullet just touch her but not penetrate her, still the blood and the pain on her arm panicked Molly to the pain that she felt the need to scream for help and cry out loud, but the redhead just came closer to her ear and hushed her with a "Shhh! No scandals remember? Have a nice day Miss Hooper" That was the last thing the redhead said to Molly and then she walked away until she reached a black car which appear from God's knows where to pick the witch up.

Molly was feeling so pathetic and impotent and _Oh God this hurts like hell_, she bites her lip to suppress the cries that were gathering on her throat. If the redhead was right any scandal or call for attention would press the trigger to eliminate Sherlock's friends and herself, all his sacrifice would be reduced to nothing if she calls people attention for help so she decided to play brave Molly and took her bloody coat out and used her scarf to wrap her wounded arm. As soon as she did it she took all the strength from her to ignore her trembling legs and started to walk away to her apartment as soon as possible. The tears that the pain had pushed out of her eyes were cleaned immediately with the back of her palm, she didn't want to claim people attention and risk her own life.

So the game never ended it only had been paused, and now was costing her own live. "_Oh God!" _


	9. Fear

**Author: Here's a new chapter guys, I'm trying to use my free time to write so sorry for any delay. Enjoy and please let me hear what you think. **

Chapter 8: Fear

The bed in front of him looked very inviting as the tired detective calmed his racing mind down, he felt his heartbeat slow down to a normal pace, his now more relaxed hands lay on his hips, his eyes closed for a brief moment and his head is thrown back to take a deep and long breath all this after he's sure that she finally gets some proper sleep after that long day.

After he was more relaxed he took a sit in the chair next to her bed, he watched her sleeping form._ Peaceful _he thought while he observed her. She lay on her back in the middle of her bed, her eyes are finally closed and her breathing is stable, her right arm is properly bandaged, her shirt had been discarded somewhere in the middle of her messy bedroom. A couple of towels which used to be pink as her cheeks are now bloody red and sprawled all over the floor, the contents of her emergency kit was an sparse disaster on her night table, the surgical thread and the needle he used to get her stiches where in the bin now, he had wanted those things away from his sight as soon as he finished sewing her wound. _He wasn't the doctor here_

Fear, if he could admit which of all the emotions was the worst he had ever felt? Caring and fear would hit the top of the list, being caring the one with most priority since somehow caring tends to lead right to the fear. He had felt it before, that horrid emotion, the sensation of being trapped, scared and unable to think straight, of course he did. That the day at the pool, John and all those explosives, and of course the day Moriarty trapped his mind moments before his fall were both significant occasions where he had been frighten as a little boy. He tried not to show it to anyone because showing fear was for the weak, but he had felt it like poison on his veins while for Moriarty fear was just his daily nutriment. James Moriarty was the kind of monster who feeds and drinks from their deepest fears.

The kind of fear he felt moments ago, when a desperate and bloody Molly Hooper crossed her flat door and passed over the blue carpet of her living room after all the blood she had lost, was definitely a new significant moment of fear added to the list of his occasions of horror.

He saw her closed the door and with a hesitant couple of steps next to him he saw her fall, the blood all over her paralyzed his brain for a second, after that everything went is rapid motion, he checking where the wound from where the blood came from, he taking her pulse, _weak_ but a cold splash of relief gave him more clarity to picking her up to the bedroom, removing her bloody shirt and checking closely the wound again, that time thinking more clearly and focusing on the type of wound and the proper procedure to fix it.

_A bullet wound, in the exterior of her right arm, the wound had must hit some superficial artery since the quantity of blood lost still that was not enough excuse to explain the bleeding, this took time, she came home walking, an hour walk, and slow pace to not drawn attention, she was threatened. Stupid Molly, why don't taking a cab? Again she had been avoiding the attention, she was told to. The wound showed him details the type of bullet and weapon which fired her, long distance, she had been observed from afar, so it was a sniper, a pro with no intention of killing her he would have succeeded if he had wanted to, so just a warning, but no one would ever try to shot a simple pathologist just for fun or sicken pleasure. They knew._

He needed her awake it was dangerous to let her sleep, her pulse was weak after bleeding all the way home, after gathering the emergency kit and cleaning his hands and her wound he proceeded to wake her up , he tried everything, shouting, slapping lightly her cheek, alcohol on her nostrils, but nothing gave him the effect he desired until he splashed ice cold water all over her face, she woke up immediately from the black out, sensing instant pain coming from her arm, she tried to move but Sherlock steadied right in her place, she looked at him them as the tears started to run down her cheeks, his eyes reassured her with confidence as he looked at her brown orbs, "I need you awake" was all he said in a serious tone, and all she could do was gave him a little nod, she didn't complain out loud but when the pain of the needle piercing her skin came she just hissed from pain and bit her lip while her eyes shut with such a force that more tears were spilled. Sweat was on both of their faces, his from concentration and hers from the cold fiber that had possessed her system. Eight stiches and ten minutes before he finished, cleaning delicately again the wound and putting some antibiotic ointment to avoid any kind of infection, finally bandaging her arm he accommodated her arm over a pillow. He took her pulse again it had finally it had returned to more normal pace, he breathed relieved and went to the kitchen searching for something edible for her but when he returned with a cup of tea and some biscuits she had fallen asleep again, he sighed and returned the tea and biscuits to the kitchen. That's how he had ended sit in her chair and observing her chest up and down with every breath she took.

* * *

_She was drowning in a cold lake, her legs and arms numb from the cold water, a pair of hands from below kept her in place avoiding her to go to surface, the dark creepiest water was hiding the face of her captor with strong hands which were tugging at her feet and drowning her more and more into the depths of that cold lake, she felt like screaming but she didn't want to exhale her last resources of air on her lungs, a light is shown briefly as some pair of hands entering the water try to reach her to help her out, she recognizes those hands, they're Sherlock's hands, hope filled her soul as she tried to reach him, with all her strength she got to sense the tip of his fingers when suddenly the hands which have trapped her feet pulls her deeper into the blackness of the water and she can't help to scream as the terror devoured her bit by bit, she lost all the air left and she is drowning her chest hurt as the cold water filled her lungs and feeling the interruption of her heartbeats._

She opened her eyes startled, the morning light prick her eyes as the pain in her chest from the recent nightmare is immediately replaced for the pain coming from her arm. She didn't felt like moving at all, her body is wasted even when she felt like she had been sleeping for ages. She touched her bandaged arm recalling the moments before. Molly collected immediately the last memories which were spinning in her head that woman from the park, the message, the shot, the bloody walk home, Sherlock treating her wound. Sherlock treating her wound with her shirtless. _Wait! _She checked her under the covers to check her actual shock, _indeed. _She rolled her eyes as she tried to take a sitting position being careful not to move so much her arm, she observed her bedroom, it had been cleaned and everything was in order but her healer was nowhere to be seen. _Where was he anyways?_

As soon as she wondered about his existence he opened her bedroom door as Sherlock made his presence known, she was alarmed covering her chest again with the covers. There was a cup of tea in one of his hands and a plate of toast in his other one.

"Please Molly, there's nothing I haven't already seen" He said taking sit beside her in the bed and giving her the tea and putting the plate of toast on her night table. "Feed yourself Molly, you need it"

For him seeing her furiously blushing couldn't be more appealing when a day ago her pale face scared the hell out of him. For her it was really weird watching Sherlock being all _Carer and Keeper? _He had healed her physical wounds and now he prepared her breakfast, she was somehow stunned, one way or another it made her feel happy and warm on the inside, but she decided to put away the feeling since her rational part told her that anyone could do that in his place, _right? Yes, this was nothing special, don't be absurd Molly._

She looked at her tea, _milk? Does he know how I took it? _She wondered so she took a sip to confirm it, _One _sugar, _yep he knew it._

"Thank you" she said shyly.

"How's the arm?" He asked taking gently her arm in his hand to check the bandage.

"It hurts a little" she said "But compared to yesterday much better" She gave him a light smile as he put her arm in place.

He nodded and gave her the plate of toast "Now eat"

"I need to tell you something…"

"Eat first" it was a command.

"But Sherlock …" she protested.

"We can talk after you finished your breakfast. Is that clear?" the determination in his voice put her in place to accept his command. She nodded and started to eat.

He shifted from his position to sit in the chair next to her bed. He watched her eat in silence, she needed to recover her strength before he starts asking questions and explaining the sudden change of plans.

Molly felt weird having him there watching her eating, especially the fact that her pink bra was only covered only but a couple of sheets was making her very uncomfortable under his stare. She thanked him when she finished, taking her plate from her and putting it in the bed side table.

He waited for her to start talking, she was sited in her bed, her back in the recliner her hair cascading her naked shoulders, only the straps of her bra were seen while the sheets covered the rest of her chest, her eyes were fixed on her restless hands.

"They know Sherlock" he didn't bother to ask her who because he knew very well who knew.

"I know Molly. I deduced everything from that wound of yours"

She wasn't surprised, he was Sherlock after all. "But I need every detail you have for me now, it's vital to find a solution for the actual situation"

She nodded "There was this woman. She said that they know you're alive, but they don't know where you are, so probably they didn't had realized when you break into my flat. She said that even when Moriarty was dead his legacy was still on. That the game was just paused. You were right; the new leader of the Moriarty's network is Moran. She told me that John, Mrs. Hudson and Greg were out of their radar for the moment, it was like they had something more important to treat for the moment and that they don't want you to interfere or else…" She said griping her sheet with her trembling hands.

He nodded. "So she gave the order to reassure her statement just in case. That's why they shot you" He stood up and started walking in circles exasperated.

"But they don't know where you are right? That's a good thing isn't it?"

"Moran knows about our connection, for him it's only matter of time for us to contact each other, but to know that he needs to keep an eye on you. There's no camera or microphones in here since they would already have found me"

"You think someone's been following me?"

"Yes"

The way he confirmed the idea of her being watched for a criminal gave her chills.

"You have to leave London Sherlock before they find you here" it pained her to accept the fact that in order to kept him safe and working on his plan he would need to left her behind, again.

"I know"

After that Sherlock disappeared into the living room. Molly took her time to carefully clean herself, the shower was rather uncomfortable with her arm hurting like hell, the painkillers wasn't doing the effect she waited, but she needed to feel the warm water running down her body, she disposed from the bandages washing her now stitched arm, then she put new bandages on it._ Much better_ she thought smiling as she tried to imagine how Sherlock did her wounds, cause she didn't remember anything after he ended with her sttiches. When she was changed into fresh clothes she got out of her room to find him sit in her couch with her laptop on his lap.

He didn't even bother to lift his gaze from the screen when he felt her presence on the living room. He just talked to her without even looking at her.

"Get ready Molly. You will have to package the necessary"

"Sorry, what?" she was dumbfounded

"We need to leave tonight. I already sent Mike an e-mail with the motives of your resignation. Apparently a friend of yours who lives in America needs your help and had proposed you a better job offer, so you take it, besides with all the recent tragedy of my dead you couldn't handle the pain that was causing to you"

It was too much information and her head was spinning around with the mix of the recent events that she only took a sit on the armchair next to the couch.

"I can't believe I'm unemployed" was the only thing she could affirm

"The woman already reserved our tickets; we're taking the midnight train to Paris. I'll be leaving first to get our false ID and passports and then I'll be heading to the train station; I'm taking the exit stairs to avoid spies so you will have to do the same, take with you light luggage. When you get down the building you'll be surrounding the corner taking the back alley make sure no one follows you, the call a cab and ask him to take you to the train station. I'll be waiting for you there. No talking with anybody until we see each other, don't get distracted. Just do as I ask. Is that clear?"

_Ok someone should tell Sherlock to explain it slowly_, she couldn't process all this that fast, all her live would have to be rewritten, when he decided to change his plans? And overall when he decided to include her in his plans? When she asked him to take her with him she didn't knew the real consequences of that petition, she knew it now, when she get shot, she felt the real risk of her involvement, but her love for him was irrational and now she would go with him in that dangerous adventure. She was feeling a lot of emotions, joy, sadness, terror, excitement, confusion but all those emotions were settled when she found him staring at her with those heavenly blue eyes waiting for her response.

"Ok then" she said firmly

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"I'm already in this mess, so I don't have a choice right?"

"No you don't" he said as the words pained him "And I'm really sorry for that"

"It's ok Sherlock. The truth is I used to think I knew where I was going to put myself into when I offered you my help, I didn't knew the real danger that was waiting for me before. I didn't think straight when I saw you so desperate. But I know now, I know the price of helping you and I'm worried of what could happen from now on. The thing is I trust you and that somehow make me feel more confident about the situation"

Sherlock was surprised with her confession. She was always so honest with him that something inside him chest makes his breathing stopped for a second. That petite woman was so scared and she was not faking the contrary, he had put her trough a lot and he was responsible for it, still she believes in him. He sensed her worries and he feel the need to ask her now if she could have changed her mind about helping him before.

"I don't regret a thing since that day, the day I offered my help. Even when I'm aware of the dangerous situation I would do it again if you asked me" She said shocking him with that smile on her face as she could read his mind, maybe she saw the concern in his face again, she was good at doing that. He briefly offered her a smile nodding her she stood up and left to her bedroom to start out the new plan into motion.

That day he didn't denied the fear trying to possessed him again, the decision of taking her with him was not something he would have even an option, but now things have changed and the mere idea of having someone hurting her or torturing her in order to get to him was driving him mad. He thought that taking Molly with him would only represent it problems to get things done fast, he was well aware she would only represent a delay to him and his plans to catch Mora as soon as possible, but Moran had given him some time, the game had been paused, he's worried about what the future could bring him now and all the risks he would have to put her trough but at least he will be there to protect her. He was responsible for her sake and he was going to accept the consequences of his reckless decisions.


End file.
